


Wise Up

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair gives Jim some much-needed advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wise Up

## Wise Up

by Silk

Author's website:  <http://www.angelfire.com/ny4/tinsel/>

All things Sentinel belong to Pet Fly and Paramount. Not me. Not for profit.

As always, for Tinnean.

This story, which is really more of a snippet, began in my head as a response to the Dark Obsenad Challenge on Senad. I originally intended to get even darker, but as usual, Jim and Blair thought differently. This is set post-TSbyBS. The R rating is for blatant misuse of bad language.

* * *

Wise Up 

By Silk 

"It's just a little tickle in my throat. That's all." 

"You're getting sick, Sandburg. I can tell." 

"What? I smell different when I'm sick or something?" Blair jibed. 

"Actually, yeah." 

"Really?" For a second, Blair's face lit up with some of his old enthusiasm. "I should run a test on-" He didn't even finish the sentence. Reality came crashing down on him, full force, as he registered that he didn't have to run tests anymore. 

No diss. No doctorate. No dreams. 

With a heavy sigh that was rapidly becoming characteristic, Blair said, "Well, nothing's going to stop me from being there, man. Nothing." 

"It's no big deal." 

"Let me be the judge of that." 

"Chief-" 

"What? You don't want me there? Is that it, Jim? Well, why don't you just come out and say so, man? I don't need the proverbial ton of bricks to fall on me here. I can be out of your way in-" 

"You're not in my fucking way, Chief!" 

"Could've fooled me," Blair muttered under his breath, knowing it was futile. Jim heard _everything_ , including the stuff he wasn't supposed to hear. Not that it mattered. Jim's powers of understanding had seemed sadly limited ever since their relationship ran aground during the dissertation fiasco. 

"I _want_ you to stay, Chief," Jim said in a considerably softer tone. 

"Yeah, well, we can't always get what we want, can we, Jim?" Blair commented flatly. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"What do you _think_ it's supposed to mean, man? Ever since..." Blair took a deep breath and forced his way through to the end of that thought. "...the Incident...you've been refusing to see what's right there in front of you." 

"We're not having this conversation," Jim said tersely, turning his back on his partner. 

"Jim," Blair said, his voice clearly crackling with strain, "we've been _not_ having this conversation for as long as I've known you." 

"I've got to go. I'm going to be late." Jim moved towards the door, but the naked distress in Blair's voice stopped him. 

"Jim, if you go now, I won't be here when you get back." 

"What is that, some kind of fucking ultimatum?" 

"No, Jim, it's the truth. Guess it's been so long since either one of us indulged in that little luxury, it's kinda hard to recognize." 

Jim whirled around, his sharply defined features contorted with pain. "I told you I want you to stay. What more do you want?" 

"For you to fucking talk to me, Jim. Is that too much to ask? Don't you care what's going on here?" 

"I don't have the slightest idea what's going on here, Blair." 

Blair nodded mutely. If that were true, all really was lost. 

"So stop threatening me when we both know that you're never going to leave me again, Chief." Jim sounded like he was backing down, which he was, because he knew, he just _knew_ , that he was right. 

A solitary tear traced its way down Blair's cheek as his mouth set mutinously. "I'm going to miss you, Jim," he whispered. 

"Stop it! You're not going anywhere!" Now Jim sounded scared, which he was, because he knew, he just _knew_ , that he was wrong. He'd blown it. Again. 

"There's only one thing that can stop me." 

"Name it. I'll do it. Whatever it is." Now Jim sounded desperate. That was good. Desperation got the job done more often than not. 

"Sorry, Jim, I can't help you with this. You're on your own. You figure it out." 

"Dammit, Blair!" Jim raked a hand through his almost non-existent hair. 

"Don't work your stuff on me, man. It's wasted. I'm way past that now." 

"Blair...." Jim tormented his name in such a way that Blair knew he had to be suffering. 

Blair broke out in a sweat that had nothing at all to do with the low-grade fever he now had. He was risking everything. No, wait a minute, he had nothing left to lose. 

Except Jim. 

He didn't know if he could survive that again. But he had to know. 

Hardening his heart against the inevitable agony that would follow, Blair stared intently into Jim's eyes. He was headed for a sensory overload for sure. 

"Jim, if I stay...we might end up killing each other." 

"But Chief... _Blair_..." Jim choked back a sob. "Why?" 

"Wise up." 

End 

* * *

End Wise Up by Silk: silkn1@worldnet.att.net

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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